


Fashion Master to Fashion Disaster

by Acting4Hope



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe- Everyone Lives, Alternative Universe- Post-pacifist ending, Gen, charafriskweek, pairing is just a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acting4Hope/pseuds/Acting4Hope
Summary: Every child has an age at which social prowess starts to actually matter them. No matter the type of person, everyone begins to care about how others think of them at some point in their life. For children, this can start as early as age 9 or as late as age 19. But for Frisk, this had started around the beginning of their freshman year of highschool. They had begun to pick up on social cues already, being ambassador and all, but when they turned 14 they started to notice their peers’ opinions a lot more. And this was, in no way at all, a bad thing; they still had their sense of self-identity and tended to ignore negative comments. But, this did give them more of a reason to panic when Homecoming reared its ugly head.





	Fashion Master to Fashion Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Another late entry for @charafriskweek day 5: fashion!!! In my defense, this one was super lengthy and also I napped way too much in the past two days. But I have today's prompt already made, so I'm going to post it directly after this one!!! 
> 
> This fics another silly one, so I hope you enjoy!!! I'll include basic refs for Chara and Frisk's outfits in the notes below (the refs were just bases for the outfits; I tweaked them where I saw fit)

Every child has an age at which social prowess starts to actually matter them. No matter the type of person, everyone begins to care about how others think of them at some point in their life. For children, this can start as early as age 9 or as late as age 19. But for Frisk, this had started around the beginning of their freshman year of highschool. They had begun to pick up on social cues already, being ambassador and all, but when they turned 14 they started to notice their peers’ opinions a lot more. And this was, in no way at all, a bad thing; they still had their sense of self-identity and tended to ignore negative comments. But, this did give them more of a reason to panic when Homecoming reared its ugly head.

 

\--- 

 

Frisk had strewn just about every single article of clothing they had in their closet onto their bed, desperately trying to find an outfit for Homecoming. They had already gone through all of their pantsuits, claiming each of them were either “too showy”, “too bland”, or “not in-season”. They were now sifting through their dresses, each of them somehow less satisfying than the next. With each dress they looked at in the mirror, the more hopeless they felt for Homecoming. 

 

Chara, who is a year older than Frisk and has already given up on caring about social standing, was sitting on their bed across from Frisk, watching as Frisk looked at dress after dress with the same look of misery. They laughed when Frisk eventually got fed up and flopped themself onto their bed covered in clothes. While Chara found no interest in attending Homecoming, they felt kind of bad that Frisk was worrying so much. Sure, Asriel pulled this kind of thing every couple of months, but he’s always been a social butterfly. But, Frisk? Frisk has always been a sore thumb in a crowd; someone you knew was different just by looking at. And, when they were younger, they embraced that fact. That strangeness is one of the reasons Chara is even here right now. Now, they care almost too much. 

 

“Hey, Frisk, what about that yellow dress you have?” Chara suggested, “You know, the one with all the frills? You love wearing that dress!” Frisk groaned, though it was muffled by the clothes and bed their face was currently on top of. Chara frowned. “Well, why not? Mom made that dress for you.” Frisk peeled their face off the bed and rolled around to face Chara. 

 

“ _ Mom makes all my dresses _ ,” Frisk replied. “ _ But still, that dress is too tacky for Homecoming. _ ” Chara scoffed and got up, picking the dress in question up off the ground and holding it in the air. 

 

“Frisk, you wore this to every ambassador’s meeting for a solid month!” Chara stated, frustration making their sentence curt. Frisk frowned and turned their attention back to the pile of clothes. They stared at it for a solid ten seconds before groaning and falling to the floor. Chara watched like a disapproving mother as Frisk rolled around the ground groaning in despair. 

 

“ _ I can’t wear any of this to Homecoming _ !” Frisk signed, continuing their dramatic floor antics. “ _ I’m going to show up to Homecoming looking weird and everyone’s going to see and it’s going to be awful _ !!” Chara tried their best not to laugh as they hung Frisk’s yellow dress back up in the closet, then walking over to their bed and picking up more garments of clothing to put back. 

 

“Now I know this is a crazy idea, but here me out.” Chara started, their arms full of clothes. “Why don’t you just... _ not go _ ?” Frisk gasped, causing Chara to drop everything and turn around in fear. Frisk was looking at Chara, their eyes wide and both hands covering their mouth. “What? What’s wrong?” Chara patted all over their body, looking for the source of Frisk’s surprise. God, they hoped it wasn’t another blood stain; those discoveries always ended with long-heartfelt conversations and lots of crying. And Chara did  _ not  _ feel like getting emotional on a Monday night. 

 

“ _ ‘Not go to Homecoming’ _ ?! _ And be ostracized by my friends who are going _ ? _ Are you kidding _ !?” Frisk exclaimed in shock. Chara deadpanned and walked over to their bed, losing all interest in dealing with Frisk’s antics. 

 

“I mean, I haven’t gone to Homecoming at all, and I’m perfectly fine.” Chara defended. Frisk looked at them, facial expression saying something along the lines of “we all know that isn’t true, but whatever floats your boat, buddy” and returned to their rolling position on the floor. “What? Just because I don’t have a million friends doesn’t mean I’m not doing okay. It’s high school, Frisk; none of this is going to matter four years from now. You’re not even going to  _ remember  _ your freshman year. I don’t, and I was a freshman last year!” This also had to do with the fact that Chara’s memory borderlined a broken phonograph, but that was besides the point. 

 

“ _ Okay, but I want to go _ !  _ And you should too _ !” Frisk retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Chara after they were done signing. “ _ Homecoming is a great time to meet new people _ !  _ Also, it gives you practice for existing in a social environment for when you’re older and have a job _ !” Chara made a “psh” noise and pulled out their phone. 

 

“You kidding? As soon as I’m out of high school, I’m getting on a bus with a bag of clothes, my phone, and a camera, and become a traveling photographer. Then, I can stay as far away from people as possible.” Chara replied, scrolling through Instagram photos of nature on their phone. Frisk rolled their eyes and got up off the ground, sitting on their bed and pulling out their laptop to shop for an outfit. Chara looked up from their phone and saw a very determined Frisk scrolling through catalog after catalog on their laptop. They sighed. “Look, all I’m trying to say is your outfits are trendier and cooler than I see most kids in our school. And, if you were to go in something you have,  _ like _ that yellow dress, I know everyone would think you looked great.” Frisk looked up at Chara, who was smiling back at them, and smiled in return before setting their laptop off to the side. 

 

“ _ You know, maybe you’re right, Chara _ .” Frisk stated. Chara shrugged and watched as Frisk sifted through their clothes again. 

 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. 

 

“Come in!” called Chara, turning back to their phone. In walked Asriel, books in his arms and a smile on his face. He set his stuff down on his desk and turned to his siblings. 

 

“Hey guys! What are you doing?” Asriel asked. Frisk was too absorbed in their closet to answer, so Chara answered for the both of them. 

 

“Frisk’s looking for an outfit for Homecoming, and I’m doing nothin’.” Chara said, making Asriel’s ears perk up. 

 

“You’re going to Homecoming, Frisk?” Asriel asked, excitement evident in his tone. Frisk turned around and nodded. Asriel nearly squealed. “Oh, that’s excellent, Frisk! You are going to have so much fun; the School Events committee has been working very hard on making Homecoming the greatest it has ever been!” Since Asriel was an active member of Student Council, he was always encouraging Chara to be more involved in the school. But now that Frisk was in the building, Asriel had a whole new member of the family to pester about school events. 

 

“So, what outfit are you thinking of wearing?” Asriel asked as he walked over to Frisk’s closet. “Is it the yellow dress with the frills? You love wearing that dress!”    
  
“That’s what I said to them before!” Chara called out. Frisk shrugged, though they were starting to seriously consider the yellow dress. Asriel thumbed through the clothing alongside Frisk and hummed in thought. 

 

“Chara, why don’t you help?” Asriel turned to look at Chara. Chara looked up from their phone, eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“Why?” They asked. Asriel felt a nervous bead of sweat build before being immediately soaked up by his fur. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and took a good cautionary two steps away from Frisk before answering. 

 

“W-Well, not too say Frisk’s taste are  _ poor  _ or anything, but, Chara, you’re a lot more... _ fashion savvy _ ?” Asriel answered, his voice slowly receding back into his throat the more he spoke. What followed his sentence was a silence that could have killed ten men, if they were not exposed to this kind of shock and anger. It felt as if a vacuum sucked all of the air out of the room, leaving only raw emotion to fill in the gaps. 

 

“ **_What_ ** ?” Frisk and Chara both said simultaneously; Chara with more of a general surprise, while Frisk was just absolute anger. Frisk took their fashion  _ very  _ seriously, and if Asriel thinks the person who wears the same pair of ripped jeans for four days straight and a variety of band hoodies has more fashion sense than them, then he has another thing coming. Asriel gulped, backing toward his desk to clear a further gap between himself and the boiling pot of pacifistic rage to his right. 

 

“I-I mean, y-yeah, sure, Chara doesn’t care about what they look like at school,” Asriel began, wishing he was anywhere but right in this room. Hell, he’d rather be a soulless flower than to stare down the soulless gaze of their sibling. “B-But Chara h-has the know-how! And when they care...they look….really nice….” He looked over at Chara, hoping for some sort of back-up, but Chara was lost in their own little world currently.  

 

Frisk took a step toward Asriel, causing Asriel to jump and almost climb onto their desk. Frisk was going to approach Asriel and roast his entire existence when Chara started laughing. Both Frisk and Asriel turned to Chara in surprise and saw them rolling on their bed laughing. After about a minute, Chara sat up on their bed and wiped a tear from their eye. 

 

“I’m sorry, guys, but this is too rich. Frisk, you’re really  _ this  _ mad because  _ Asriel  _ thinks I dress better than you?” Chara asked, gesturing to Asriel. “Like, I’m sorry man, but Asriel has the fashion sense of Dad. And all Dad wears are...dad clothes.” 

 

“I do not wear ‘dad clothes’! I wear comfortable, professional attire!!” Asriel protested, pouting. Chara looked at Frisk. 

 

“See, what did I tell you; the fashion sense of a dad.” Chara continued, ignoring Asriel’s pouts and whines, “And I, personally, don’t think I have much of a fashion sense at all. I just wear whatever makes me look as androgynous as possible while also being extremely comfortable. So, you do have the better fashion sense, Frisk.” Frisk almost instantly calmed down once Chara said that, and was prepared to sign a thanks for Chara. But then, Chara said something that would call back to a challenging, rivalrous part of Frisk’s mind. 

 

“Though, I do think that since Asriel thinks this, I should see this for myself. So I’ve decided I  _ will  _ go to Homecoming this year, and I’m going to outshine  _ you _ if it’s the last thing I do.” Chara was smirking, expecting a volcano eruption of emotion to burst forth from Frisk. But what they received instead was a smirk in return and a hand outstretched toward them. 

 

“ _Alright then, let’s make this a wager._ ” Frisk was speaking directly to Chara through their subconscious, a trait their soul-link allowed. “ _We can recruit whoever we’d like to help us create an outfit, and whoever gets the most compliments at Homecoming will be crowned ‘Most Fashionable Sibling’._ _And the loser has to go to school the next day wearing an outfit of the winner’s choice; and that outfit could be_ anything _. No matter how tacky or embarrassing, the loser_ must _wear it._ And _they have to tell everyone that they picked the outfit themself. Deal?_ ” Chara’s face hid no secrets as to how they were feeling; they could already picture the hodge-podge of ridiculous garb they would throw on Frisk. Maybe they’d even get a few pictures of it to send to Yearbook Club to put in the yearbooks, so Frisk’s ultimate humility could be recorded forever. Meanwhile, Frisk was having similar thoughts, though they were also thinking about who they could get to help them pick out the perfect outfit. It had to be someone unexpected; someone whom Chara would never suspect had any knowledge on fashion. 

 

Chara reached their hand out and shook Frisk’s, sealing their silent agreement with a subconscious “ _ Deal _ ”. Asriel was left entirely out of the loop, but he was just glad he didn’t get maimed by Frisk. 

 

Once the deal was set and Asriel decided he wanted to help Toriel with dinner, the two siblings began their race to the fashion stage. 

 

\---

 

Mettaton’s estate was a grand affair; a tasteful collage of pinks, grays, and blacks with a vibrant garden and large swimming pool the shape of Mettaton’s box-form. The cobblestone paths that traveled all around the estate led Chara to the glamour-bot in question, currently relaxing poolside on a lawn chair. The sun beat down on the estate, making Chara regret their choice in black skinny jeans and sweatshirt. Their backpack was slung over their shoulder, though it was not all that heavy. They approached Mettaton and tossed their backpack by his lawn chair. Mettaton jumped, shooting upright and looking in Chara’s direction. Chara waved nonchalantly. 

 

“‘Sup, Metta.” Chara greeted. Mettaton sighed and stood. 

 

“Oh, dearie, I  _ really  _ wished you would give me further notice before coming here. You startled me!” Mettaton said, striding over and pulling Chara into a hug. Chara patted Mettaton’s shoulder and the hug was over, leaving Mettaton to eye Chara curiously. “So what brings you to my humble abode on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?” He realized the day and his eyebrows furrowed. “Wait a second, it’s only 12 PM. Don’t you have school right now, darling?” 

 

“Eh, that’s irrelevant,” Chara brushed off, walking past Mettaton to grab their backpack. “What’s  _ really  _ important is that I need your help.” They opened their backpack and dumped rolls of fabric onto the ground, along with several bags of buttons, ribbons, zippers, and other such things. Mettaton gasped, star-eyes forming at the sight of the materials in front of him. “I need you to help me make an outfit for Homecoming so I can look better than Frisk.” Mettaton was on the fabrics like a bee to honey, sifting through all of the fabrics and picking his favorites. 

 

“You’re going to  _ Homecoming _ ? And you want  _ me  _ to help you make an outfit!?” Mettaton exclaimed. “Dearie, I will not let your trust down! I will make you the most fabulous outfit this side of the continent--nay--this  _ Earth  _ has ever seen!!” He began to lead Chara inside, rambling about all the ideas he had already. Then, he paused and looked down to Chara. “But why do you want to look better than Frisk?” Chara smirked and rubbed their hands together mischievously 

 

“Frisk thinks they’re a better dresser than me, so we made a bet that whoever got the most compliments at Homecoming gets to pick the worst outfit for the loser to wear the next day at school. And I am  _ not  _ wearing  _ anything  _ that frilly, flowery, pastel-loving pushover has.” Chara explained. Mettaton quirked a brow, but was going along with these sibling shenanigans. Plus, he has been waiting almost his entire career to put his ‘gloom and doom’ family member in some proper clothing. Because while Chara did have their sensibility, black was just not a color that should be worn every day. 

 

“Well, Chara, dearie, believe me when I tell you that you  _ will  _ win this bet.  _ And _ , just to prove it, I’m going to make an outfit for Frisk as well!” Chara eyed Mettaton suspiciously, but was relieved when they noticed his smirk. “I’m going to make them the  _ worst  _ outfit in history! My finest achievments as a creator; creating both a masterpiece and a disaster!! Oh, I’m so excited!! Do you mind if we start now? I’d like to get some measurements done and then you can tell me any ideas or preferences you have in mind!” Mettaton walked around his foyer, pulling measuring tape and a notepad from a drawer and walking back over to Chara. As he was measuring, Chara had this to say: 

 

“Just make sure I look like the most gender-neutral person to ever live.” 

 

\--- 

 

As Chara was doing that, across the town, Frisk was knocking repeatedly on a door and kept checking their phone for the time. 12:05. 12:06. Frisk groaned, leaning on the door and hitting it with their head. At this rate, it would not even be worth it to cut class because by the time this down opened, class would already be out. 

 

At long last, the door opened just the slightest. Frisk took a step back and looked at the familiar face peeking through the door. He was wearing scrubs, minus the pants and replaced with basketball shorts, and blue crocs. His eye lights were dim, and he was sporting large bags under his eye sockets. 

 

“Mmmm, kid, i’s’ike...3 A.M. ri’now.” Sans slurred, his voice heavy with sleep as he leaned against the doorway. His eye sockets closed shut, a feat most would think skeleton monsters could not do, and he nearly fell back asleep before waking himself up with a jolt. Frisk smiled patiently and handed their phone to Sans, displaying the time in bold, bright numbers. Sans inspected it for a minute, then he nodded. “Heh, guess I really worked myself  _ down to the bone  _ yesterday, eh?” Frisk giggled and Sans opened the door and gestured inside. “Welp, guess I can’t turn away a guest. Come in, buddy.” 

 

Frisk walked inside Sans’s apartment and watched as Sans stumbled into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee. “You want anything, Frisk?” Sans called out, looking around the entrance of the kitchen at Frisk. Frisk shook their head, causing Sans to shrug and go back inside the kitchen. Frisk paced around, scrolling through their plans on their phone, until Sans sauntered back in with two mugs. He placed them both down on the coffee table before settling on the couch, beckoning Frisk over with a slap to the space next to him. Frisk obliged and sat beside Sans, looking at the contents of both mugs in question. 

 

“Don’t tell your mom, but it’s coffee,” Sans said, nudging one of the mugs toward Frisk. Frisk looked at Sans, who winked back at them. “Ya looked like ya needed some. Plus, it makes me feel old if I’m the only one drinkin’ coffee.” Frisk appreciated the gesture, so they picked up the mug and took one sip. It was perfect for Frisk’s tastes; enough sugar and milk to completely cut out the gross taste of the actual coffee. 

 

Once the two were finished their coffees, Sans leaned back and looked at Frisk. “Sooo, what brings you to my humble abode on this fine day? Don’t you have an education to be getting?” Frisk blushed, embarrassed, and brought their hands up to sign. 

 

“ _ I came over here to ask a really big favor of you _ .” Frisk stated. This certainly raised Sans’s interest, though it also made him a little nervous. Favors and promises were two things Sans could, somehow, never back out of. And Sans was not having a repeat of the last major promise he took on; that involved way too many endless timelines and dust on clothes. 

 

“Well, why don’t you tell me what this ‘favor’ entails, and I can tell ya if I can do it,” Sans replied, his nonchalance hiding a thick layer of fear and anxiety. 

 

“ _ I need you to help create an outfit for me for Homecoming _ .” Frisk explained. Sans’s eye lights brightened; this was certainly a, uh,  _ new  _ kind of favor to be asked. Usually no one trusted Sans with fashion advice, especially with the ensemble he always wore. But he was intrigued, so he pressed on. 

 

“What makes you want  _ me  _ to help you?” Sans asked. “Like, I hate to break it to ya, but...I don’t have exactly the ‘trendiest’ of fashion styles…” He gestured to his attire, taking extra care to gesture to his crocs. “I mean, come on, Frisk…. _ crocs _ .” Frisk giggled, but shook their head. 

 

“ _ Sans, I know you make most of Papyrus’s clothes _ …” Frisk said. “ _ And, while I know that Papyrus’s style can be a little flashy, but I know you have also made a few of Mom’s dresses, too _ .” Sans looked away, a little embarrassed that someone finally figured out his secret hobby. Well, it really  _ was  _ no secret, since Sans had admitted to making Papyrus’s “battlesuit”, but it was still something no one had figured out yet. Sans sighed and turned back around, hands up in surrender. 

 

“Alright, kiddo, you got me. I got a little... _ crafty _ with clothing.” Sans confessed. “So, you need me to make you somethin’ for Homecoming?” Frisk nodded feverently. “Why do you need another outfit? Hasn’t Toriel made you enough dresses and pantsuits for you to wear a new one each day for two years?” Frisk’s face suddenly turned eager and determined. 

 

“ _ Chara thinks they have more style than me, so we have a bet. Whoever gets complimented on their outfit more at Homecoming makes the loser wear an outfit of their choosing at school the next day _ .” Frisk explained. Sans’s smile turns to a small smirk; while he did not hate Chara, the two had a sort of prank war constantly waging on, and Chara had recently pranked Sans so hard that he missed work the next day. Needless to say, Sans was looking for a little friendly revenge. 

 

“Go to the broom closet and fetch some fabrics, we’re  _ doing this. _ ” 

 

\--- 

 

The two pairs worked afternoon till evening on their outfits until that Friday, which was Homecoming. Asriel, meanwhile, was left wondering just what the heck was going on as his siblings came home late each day and would immediately go to bed. On Thursday, Chara and Frisk missed school entirely to work on some finishing touches to their outfits. Then, on Thursday night, each of them came home with a covered hanger; their outfit hidden in the slips provided by both Mettaton and Sans. Neither sibling spoke a word to each other as they hung up their outfits, but both had made a silent agreement that no sabotaging would occur. This was going to be a fair-and-square type showdown. 

 

That next day, Frisk and Chara sat impatiently in each of their classes; just waiting for the final bell to sound so they can rush home and get ready. By the time the final bell came, neither could get out the door and to the bus fast enough. 

 

They each got dressed in private and had their co-creators drive them to Homecoming, since Asriel was already at the school making finishing touches to the gym’s setup for Homecoming. When Mettaton’s Rolls Royce limo and Sans’s beat-up convertible pulled up to the drop-off, all eyes were on them. 

 

Finally, it was time. 

 

\--- 

 

Students gathered around the main hall, watching and whispering as Frisk and Chara walked side-by-side to the gym.  

 

Chara’s outfit was showy but reserved, a style Chara had been fighting with Mettaton about since the first day. They wore tight black dress pants with a white dress shirt tucked into the pants. The suit they wore over that was a velvety maroon with a gold trim, Draped over their shoulders was a long black coat, a maroon handkerchief tucked into the pocket. Their hair was parted over to the side, and they wore light makeup with a dark lipstick. And, as a more personal note, they wore their favorite pair of maroon combat boots.  

 

Frisk, on the other hand, was elegant but simple, a homage to how Sans and Frisk preferred their clothing. They wore a long, flowy dark purple dress that was longer in the back and had long sleeves that tapered off around the wrists. The dress was tighter around the waist, thanks to a built-in dark purple sash, and the dress stopped just below the baseline of their neck. On the back of the dress, as well as woven into their hair, were tiny violets that added a sense of personality to the outfit. They wore light makeup with a light violet eyeshadow and a pinkish nude lipstick. They were simple black flats and were carrying a purple clutch to hold their phone and a small notebook to tally off the compliments. 

 

“Nice outfit, who helped you?” Chara asked, not even bothering to look over at Frisk. Frisk pulled out their phone, typed a response, and handed it to Chara. The message said: 

 

“ _ A good friend of mine. I see Mettaton helped you with yours? _ ” 

 

Chara smiled and handed the phone back to Frisk, all the while saying, “A magician never reveals their secrets. Now, may the best outfit win.” 

 

As soon as Chara opened the doors to the gymnasium, it was if the whole room stopped and stared. This made one thing official; Chara was uncomfortable. They could feel every pair of eyes glancing once, twice,  _ three times  _ over Chara’s outfit. Frisk was basking in this attention, nearly tempted to do a little twirl just to show off. 

 

The entire room was silent, until one brave soul finally approached the two. 

 

“U-Uh, Chara?” The student said, face red and sweaty. “Y-You look...like, r-really nice.” 

 

Check one for Chara. 

 

“Thank you,” Chara replied, eyeing Frisk out of the corner of their eyes and smirking at them. Frisk pouted, walking further into the gym. As soon as they stepped closer, a crowd of students gathered around Frisk, giving out compliments like they were candy. Chara panicked and even further into the gym, earning themself their own crowd. The game was officially on. 

 

\--- 

 

It was two hours into Homecoming, and Frisk had finally pulled themself away from the groups of compliments to grab themself a refreshment. They poured themself a cup of punch and checked their tally notebook. By now, they were up to 112, but it wasn’t enough. Last time they checked, Chara was already at 134. They needed to step their game up; there was no way in  _ hell  _ they were letting Chara dress them. They were rethinking their tactics when they heard someone call out to them from behind. They turned around and saw it was Kid, wearing an orange sleeveless dress with an orange bow on their head. 

 

“Hey, Frisk!” Kid greeted, smiling. Frisk smiled in return and waved. Kid bounded over to Frisk, careful not to land on their face, and stopped next to their best friend. “Dude, you look, like, amazing! Did you just get that dress? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” Frisk laughed and nodded. 

 

“ _ Actually, I made this _ !” Frisk elaborated, then quickly adding with flushed cheeks, “ _ Well, someone else helped me make it, but it was my initial design _ .” Kid laughed, their cheeks also flushed, and soon the teenage hormones caused a common phenomenon in the pubescent world known as an “awkward silence”. They stood by the punch bowl, waiting for some grace of God to put either of them out of their misery since they were out of words and their thoughts were going a mile a minute about how cute the other one was, until finally Kid spoke up. 

 

“W-Well, uhhhhhh, Frisk...I was w-wondering if...if….” They coughed, their cheeks somehow getting darker. “You w-wanted to dance with me? Like for a little bit! Y-You can say no, o-or say yes, I don’t care. Well, I mean I do care! But whatI’msayingisbasicallyyoucandowhatyouwantand-” 

 

“ _ Okay _ ,” Frisk signed, catching Kid off-guard. They were pleasantly surprised, but they quickly covered it up with a huge grin and used their tail to grab Frisk’s wrist and lead them to the dancefloor. 

 

“What are we waiting for then, dude!? Let’s go!” Kid called out. Frisk laughed, unable to control the giddiness welling up in their chest. They figured they could take a short break to have some fun. 

 

Two dances in and Frisk had already gotten to 145. 

 

\--- 

 

The night was finally coming to a close, and Chara and Frisk were scrambling to collect their final compliments. They were tied at 204, but by checking the roster they had both seen that there was at least 232 students attending. Chara was running around to each table, posing as dramatically as possible to get their final tallies. Frisk was doing about the same thing, except they were also playfully flirting with just about everyone who hadn’t complimented them yet. 

 

Finally, they were at a crossroads. In the middle of the dance floor, everyone packing up and getting ready to leave behind them. 

 

“There’s only one way to settle this,” Chara announced. Frisk nodded, for they knew exactly what Chara meant. 

 

“ASRIEL!!” 

 

Suddenly, the gym doors opened, and there he was. 

 

“W-What!? What’s wrong!?!” He asked, looking nervous and frantic. His voice was loud enough to catch the attention of just about everyone in the gym, and suddenly it was like a bucket of puppies was placed at the entrance to the gym. 

 

“Aww, oh my god, you look so cute!!” 

 

“Where’d you get that dress, it’s adorable!!” 

 

“H-Hey, Az, y-you look kinda hot…” 

 

Chara and Frisk exchanged a similar look of defeat before dropping their notebooks and collapsing onto the floor. Asriel had won without even trying. 

 

He won because of Frisk’s frilly yellow dress. 

 

“Told you you should have worn it…” Chara mumbled. 

 

\--- 

 

The drive home from Homecoming was relatively silent, save for Asriel’s excited ranting to Toriel about how nearly everyone in the whole gymnasium complimented him for his attire. Chara and Frisk just really wanted to go home and sleep. 

 

“And how was Homecoming for you two?” Toriel asked. Chara and Frisk both responded with disappointed groans, causing Asriel to pout. 

 

“Aw, really? But you two looked so nice!” Asriel mentioned. Chara groaned even more and curled up in a ball to nap, while Frisk was already passed out. Asriel looked at them in concern. “Guess they had a long night,” Toriel laughed. 

 

“Well, Sans told me they had a wager going on that whoever got the most compliments would make the loser wear whatever they wanted for a whole day, so I guess they must have tuckered themselves out with all of that socializing. Especially Chara; I’m quite proud of them for coming.” Toriel explained, briefly looking back at her sleeping angels. Asriel’s eyes lit up as a shocking realization dawned on him. 

 

\---

 

The next morning, Frisk and Chara awoke to two very similar outfits waiting for them on the floor. Chara rolled off their bed to inspect them, crinkling their nose in disgust when they saw what was there. 

 

“Ew, why is this stuff out?” Chara asked aloud. Asriel jumped off of his bunk bed, his hands proudly at his hips. 

 

“Because, since  _ I  _ got the most compliments last night, that means  _ you two  _ have to wear whatever I want you to wear! And I want you two to wear this!” Asriel explained with glee, gesturing to the outfits on the ground. Frisk fell off their bed in shock and Chara stamped their foot on the ground in protest. 

 

“B-But I--how did you-- _ you weren’t even in the bet _ !!!” Chara cried out, flabbergasted. Frisk had similar protests, but their hands were moving too fast to decipher what they were saying. Asriel wagged his finger and shook his head. 

 

“Ah-ah-ah, doesn’t matter. I still won, didn’t I?” Asriel asked. Chara opened their mouth to rebuttal, but stopped when they heard Frisk sigh. They turned around and watched with horror as Frisk pulled on the outfit Asriel had selected. Frisk looked directly at Chara and shrugged; even though he wasn’t in the bet, fair is fair. Chara sighed and grabbed their outfit off the ground, grumbling curses the whole way to the bathroom. 

 

\--- 

 

That day, the school watched with a different kind of wonder as the Dreemurr siblings entered the building, wearing matching outfits. All of them wore galaxy leggings, galaxy crocs, and a white t-shirt that said “I Love My Siblings” on it. 

 

The whole way to homeroom, Asriel could not stop grinning. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Frisk's outfit: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/eb/5d/db/eb5ddb0b15561b3e9db2a32903aa6b02.jpg 
> 
> Chara's outfit (the one in the middle): https://filmmeetsfashion.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/androgynybpp.jpg


End file.
